“I can’t believe this shit”, Keisha says to herself as she drives the long and busy highway. “I’ve been with his ass since we were in high school, and he decides to fuck around with his boss? It’s all good, I got something for her white ass.”

Just a couple of hours ago, Keisha had had a final meeting with the private investigator whom she hired after feeling a little suspicious about her husband’s infidelity. She and Stanley had been married for only 3 years. They married young, she 19 and he 20, when they found out that she was pregnant.

Stanley got a job in a nearby Circle K store to support them, but Keisha lost the baby just 2 months after the marriage began. Still, they stayed together, and Stanley later got a pretty good job working in the mailroom of the local newspaper publication. Which, according to her private investigator, is where Stanley met his supervisor, Karen. The private investigator showed her enough documents and video to convince her of the infidelity by Stanley.

Despite the fact that Keisha promised the PI that she would only take the matter up with a divorce lawyer and not confront Stanley or Karen about it, Keisha rushed home to get out of the pantsuit that she was wearing and slip into some sweatpants and a sports shirt that basically covered only her breasts. Keisha was still every bit the tough girl who grew up in probably the toughest city housing project, despite her current middle-class living. Keisha was determined to confront Karen, and if it meant kicking her ass, so be it.

Keisha kept mumbling to herself as she drove, “Nobody fucks my man and thinks she’s getting over on me. I don’t care if they fire Stan, her ass is mine.” With the air conditioner to her car being broken and only warm air blowing through her opened car windows, that certainly didn’t help her anger any more than usual. The 5 o’clock traffic and summer’s heat made matters worse.

“2390 Monterey Boulevard. Finally, I made it here. Okay, bitch, I got a six-pack of Whuppazz for you,” she said to herself as she parked her car and gathered up all of the videos and documents. She approached the house, though very angry, with caution. She didn’t know what kind of woman this Karen was, but she wasn’t that scared to find out either. Keisha knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She knocked once again, and still no answer.

Lastly, she rang the doorbell. That time, Keisha could hear some type of activity going on in the house, but she couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. Finally, a man opened the door. He was a tall, large, white guy who appeared to be in his 50s and wearing a bathrobe. “Can I help you with something?”, he asked.

“Yes, sir, is this where Karen Shanks lives?” Keisha asked.

“Yes, but she’s not here at this moment. I’m her husband. What can I do for you?

“Well, I’m sorry to bother you. I needed to talk to Karen. It’s really...” Keisha began saying, then realized that showing her evidence to Karen’s husband might be as good as kicking her ass. “Better yet, my name is Keisha Walker, and I might have something that may interest you.”

“And what’s that, if I may ask?”

“Can I come in and show you? It has to do with your wife and my husband.”

“Oh really, Keisha? Sounds interesting. Come in.”

As Keisha entered the house, he says to her, “My name is Ben. Have a seat, Keisha. Can I get you something to drink? A drink, beer, soda?”

As Keisha sits on the sofa, she asks, “What do you have to drink, Ben?”

He tells her, “You name it, I’m sure I’ve got it.”

“How about Jack and Coke?”

“You’ve got it.” As Ben was getting glasses, he explained to Keisha, “By the way, please excuse the way that I’m dressed. I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard the doorbell ring.”

“No problem, Ben. I was knocking for a while, but no one answered.”

“That’s because we can’t hear the door from the bedroom, but the doorbell itself is right outside the bedroom. Would you like me to change?”

“No, it’s okay. Wear whatever makes you comfortable; it’s your house. By the way, I should warn you, I have videos of my husband with your wife.”

“Really? Then I better bring the whole bottle of Jack and Coke then. It sounds like it’s going to be a long evening.” Just then, Ben returned to the room with a half-gallon bottle of Jack Daniels and a 2-liter bottle of chilled Coke. “I have something to show you too, Keisha.” Ben reached into a cabinet of his entertainment center and showed Keisha what appeared to be about 25 videotapes with dates marked on them.

“What’s that?”

“Those are also videos of my wife and other men; probably one of them is your husband.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I better go.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s not your fault. You see, my wife and I have had some problems in the past. Of course, we’ve gotten older, and I’m not as healthy as I once was.”

“Ben, you don’t have to tell me anymore. I understand.”

“No, you don’t. Well, over the years of our marriage and with the stress of our jobs and raising our kids, I’ve lost the vitality, if you will, that I once had as a younger man.”

“So you’re ummmm impotent?”

“Somewhat. With the use of herbal supplements and, of course, Viagra, I can be my old self again. But Karen often found more pleasure in younger black men. But enough about that; let’s see what you’ve got.”